


Your Mortal Sins and a Double Whiskey

by yersifanel



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Folklore, Legends, M/M, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yersifanel/pseuds/yersifanel
Summary: Vasquez laughed out loud, hard and long because, of course, Faraday's sins would taste like fucking whiskey.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning to post this in a single chapter but time constrains wouldn't let me do so, sorry about that. The second part, and with it the conclusion, will be next. 
> 
> This was written for the Mag7Weekend event, main theme being Supernatural Encounters but really, I'm mixing fright fest and magnificent monsters a little bit there was well because it fitted. 
> 
> The story has not been revised by a beta, so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_"But there is no forgiveness for men like you, güero."_

He shouldn't have said that, even if at the moment he believed it to be true. There had been so much more to Joshua Faraday than tricks and giggles, he had been, after all, a good man. Vasquez met six good men in a very short time, and lost four, but it had been Faraday's lost what got to him the most.

Perhaps, that was exactly the reason why he was back at the hill facing Rose Creek, where four graves had been made to put the men who saved the town to rest. He should be grateful, really, because here at the hill, with the sun dying and the sky is bleeding above him, there was no one to stop him.

He fell on his knees before the grave marked with Faraday's name and slowly took the items he brought back with him from his bag, one by one. Two white candles, a bouquet of _cempasúchil_ , a handful of _mano de león_ , salt, ashes and two pieces of silver.

He lit the candles and put them at each side of the grave, both sets of flowers at the base of the cross, and made a path with the salt from the bottom of the base towards himself. Lastly, he held the bag of ashes between his hands as he looked into the sky.

_"Este hombre no tiene un hogar, permite que en mí se forme uno."_

He began by laying out a truth, the fact that Faraday didn't have a home, and followed with a request, that in Vasquez a home could be found instead. It was essential for the next part, because there had to be _somewhere_ where this offering could be made, somewhere in the world of the living for the dead to laid their sins behind.

His mother told him the tell first, when his father died. The house they lived in had been the canvas, the mortal stage for the sins of the soul to be absorbed and after his mother's praying, to be absolved. But Faraday didn't have a home, he had been alone for so long, he had nothing left behind, nothing to be attached with but his guns, a deck of cards and a grave at the hill before Rose Creek.

Of course, there was more to it. It was his mother who had told him about the ritual, how sacred it was and how much it costed. It was not something traditionally done by common folk, and it was kept by very few, an ability almost lost… but not to Vasquez, not to his family.

He kept the knowledge in the back of his mind all the time. A gift and a curse at the same time, but with no doubt an interesting thing to know, the ritual… Still, it was not something he would ever do out of the kindness of his heart… why would he, when there was no one worth if it for him to do so as such?

Expect now, there was.

He took a knife from his pocket and cut his left palm open, then he opened the bag of ashes and poured some on his open palm, ignoring the sting of the cut getting crusted with the ashes, Vasquez looked over the Faraday's name, he extended his hand to let his blood dripping over the grave, and continued.

" _Tlazolteotl_ ," he began. " _Señora, escucha mis palabras, te pido tomes en cuenta esta ofrenda que hago por este hombre, quien ya no puede pedir perdón_."

He asked the goodness for a chance, the simple chance of being _him_ who ask for foreignness instead of Faraday, because the other man could no longer ask for anything, not when he was below the ground and in the world beyond this.

Vasquez took the knife in his left and opened his right palm as well, taking the rest of the ashes in his bleeding hand. With both hands covered in blood and ashes he dug his fingers in the grave, taking handfuls of bloody soil in his hands and looking at the carving in the cross.

"Here's to forgiveness, _güero_."

With something close to a smile, Vasquez pictured he fallen man on his mind and brought the soil to his mouth, he closed his eyes, took a shaky breath, repeating _Tlazolteotl_ name a few more times before opening his mouth and biting into the mixture of soil, ash and blood.

It wasn't easy, the earth flavor mixed with copper and decay was overpowering but Vasquez held his breath and took another mouthful of bloody ash and soil. He stopped for a moment, and then bit into it again, and again, and again, until he felt he was going to be sick.

The flame of the candles flickered into the night with no wind around him. He fixed his eyes on the flame and took another handful of soil, thinking about the man he met and the fate they shared, the town they helped and his own life, saved by this very man.

One last bite and he fell forward, supporting his head on his hands and he breath slowly trying to keep the dirt down. His mouth tasted awful, metal, dirt and ashes, but there was also a bitter overpowering taste that lingered on the back of his tongue and the roof of his mouth, something with a light taste of whiskey.

Vasquez laughed out loud, hard and long because, of course, Faraday's sins would taste like fucking whiskey.

he held his breath for a long moment, then let it go slowly. What the small light of the candles he could see his own breath like mist, even without the weather being cold. It was at that moment that he knew he ritual had worked, when the flames flickered again and all he could taste in his mouth was not blood, ash and dust but whiskey.

He took the silver pieces and bury them in the grave, his eyes darting to the engraved name once again, as a small smile formed in his face.

"Have a safe journey, _mijo_."

Vasquez got up slowly and took the rag hanging from his belt and cleaned hi mouth, he dug from his pockets another three silver pieces and laid one in each of the graves besides Faraday's. After that he said a prayer and walked away from the graves as the night had covered the valley and a few windows of Rose Creek lighted up in the distance.

Looking over his shoulder, he asked for forgiveness from Billy, Goody and Jack, wishing to whomever has hearing for them to have a proper rest in the afterlife, just like he had assured Faraday will have.

He rode into the night, his eyes now easily adjusted to the shadows. There was much to be done, and he knew he had to keep going.

"No rest for the wicked."

***

Red found him first, not like he was hiding anyway. They agreed to his meeting spot before parting for a few days, Vasquez was the first to make it, followed close by Red Harvest, who caught him in the act of washing his hands and face in the nearby river bank. In any other circumstance, Vasquez wouldn't have mind, but this time he was washing blood and dirt from the entire lower half of his face, his eyes were bloodshot and his face pale, he looked halfway dead.

"What did you do?" Red asked with narrowed eyes as he kneeled beside Vasquez, taking the man's right hand to examine the still tender cut, "It's infected."

"Do what?" he asked, pretending he didn't know what Red Harvest was talking about, the Comanche didn't look impressed with his attempt. Vasquez sighed. "It's complicated."

Red is digging some items from his pack, some things Vasquez had seen before and some more he hasn't, but for the intention they looked like natural medical supplies. He intercuts Vasquez to wash his hands with some kind of past that burns his cuts and puts some other after he dirs. His hands, finally wrapping both palms in clean rags.

"Thank you."

"Hmmm," Red eyes him for a long moment, as they walk back to the camp. "You have not answer me."

"Eh?"

"What did you do," he repeated. "Blood on your palms, on your face, dirt and blood… you did something."

Vasquez clicked his tongue but remained silent, at least for a while. Red gave him time and gave him space as they finished setting up the campsite, it was a nice gesture, if only temporary. Vasquez was not debating wheatear he should answer or not, he was going to do it, his mind set even before Red asked the question, because Red Harvest and Sam Chisolm were the only remnants of something Vasquez hadn't feel in a long time.

"It was a long time ago, something my grandfather's grandfather did," he began, staring at the flames and not Red Harvest's face. "Where I come from, like any other town, there's tales and legends, some have more ground to be than others."

Red listened without interruptions, the man was giving him space to talk and Vasquez appreciated that.

"There's long distances between places all over Mexico, people always warn you about what you may find on the road, waiting in the night," He looked at the sky, remembering his mother's words. "There's this… man… that rides on a stunning jet-black horse," he smiled. "Like Faraday's horse."

He licked his lips, not hiding the smile and neither did Red, as a fond memory momentarily staged into their thoughts, before Vasquez went back to the story.

"The man is dressed in black, with details in silver and red, studs like this," he points out to the decoration of his own trousers, "made of silver, a wide brim hat… the finest clothes you will ever see in a _pinche_ cowboy, the man is a _Charro_ , that's… that's like a fancy vaquero… they are very good at handling horses, riding is the best thing a Charro does, and their lives revolve around that."

Red made a humming sound, but Vasquez decided to continue instead of allowing him for questions that he might not have the answer.

"People called him _El Charro Negro_ … because of the clothes of course… and people say that if you find him on the road, you are in trouble."

Red frowned, "He's not a man."

"No, no lo es," Vasquez agreed, "He's… something, I don't know what… stories talk about how you must avoid him on the road, but my grandfather's grandfather? He was desperate and in too much need to do that," Vasquez sighed. "He was walking down the road, the night dark and with no stars, with the full moon as his witness when he saw El Charro, there, on his horse, waiting by the side of the road."

Vasquez pulled out a golden piece from his pocket, "El Charro offers people fortune, a bag of the thing they desire, greed made solid and bagged for you to take out of El Charro's bony hand."

"It's a trap," Red contemplated, because he had heard something similar to this from his own people, "The offering…"

"It's always a trap but… mi _Tatarabuelo_ was not a greedy man, he… he needed help, health for his wife and food to feed his children… there was no greed involved, only a terrible necessity."

"What happened?"

Vazquez closed his eyes, remembering the story word for word, "He asked El Charro for that… health and provision… he asked him for a deal… and he got one."

He opened his hands, bandaged and clean, but there was still a fait smell of decay on him, one that will probably never go away.

"Servitude was the price and it was for all of us," Vasquez explained. "El Charro is not a thing from this world, but… when he has someone like us tied to him can do… _more_ … he feeds on the sins of those who cross his path, and with that deal in my family he has made us his instrument to facilitate that, people call us _Devoradores de Pecados_ … Sin-Eaters."

He peeled off the rags to show Red how the wound was almost healed, abnormally so, "I can eat the sins of others… grant them some absolution, and I will carry those for _him_ to feast on."

But was a strange power and responsibility to carry. Some people feared those like Vasquez, other seek their help because there were worse things than in the thought of eternal punishment than dead itself.

"Tlazolteotl is the name of an ancient Goddess from my land," Vasquez leaned on his hands behind his back, staring at the flame. "She is the Goddess of _Filth_ , anything that might be consider filth in the spiritual sense as well as behavior, but she's also a goddess of purification, because she eats the filth and grants cleansing for those who ask for it, once in a lifetime."

Red's face was neutral, he believed Vasquez story and he was not judging him, if not for his careful carved expression, Vasquez would say the Comanche was fascinated with the tale.

"So, you conjure her name," he asked, thinking about what Vasquez said he was able to do, "To eat the sins of those you chose."

"That's how my mother taught me," Vasquez explained, he patted his chest a couple of times, "And I can feel them, here."

Red narrowed his eyes, "Faraday."

He nodded, once. Yes, he had returned to Rose Creek and used his curse like a gift in order to devour the sins of someone that, in the end, proved himself to be a good man.

Vasquez couldn't bring Faraday back to life, no matter how much he wished he could. But what he could do was give his immortal soul some kind of peace, even at the cost of his own. It was not on El Charro's rules, but it wasn't against them either, so Vasquez saw his chance.

He regretted nothing.

***

There was a soft sound constantly around him, metal softly being flickered, he recognized the sound as the one made by a coin tossed into the air, gently scrapping against a nail before spinning for a moment, before tumbling down and getting caught in the palm of someone's hand, he had done that motion countless of times before, as many times as he had shuffled his cards.

Slowly, Faraday opened his eyes to find himself laying on his back, with the grey sky above him in a perpetual dimly grey light. It reminded him of the noon of a cloudy day, no rain, only clouds, and no sun to be seen behind them.

He was on a hill covered in fog, but he couldn't recognize anything about the place. It was vaguely familiar, and it felt important, yet nothing came to his mind. He noticed he was laying on top of a grave, and truly, that should alarm him more than it did. Instead he sat up and gazed towards the caring on the cross, blinking slowly.

"Josh Faraday," he mumbled, his eyes on the letters, the candles at the sides of the grave and the flowers at the bottom of the cross. There was a card on the yellow flowers, he extended his hand to take it, watching the Jack of Spades stare at him, but telling him nothing.

He held the card in one hand and pushed himself to his feet with the other. His body ached and his mind was numb, but there was a strange sense of calm that came with the fact he could not remember anything, not even his name.

He glazed at the grave, perhaps it was Josh Faraday, otherwise why would he be laying across such place? It had been clearly taken care of, there was even some kind of offering someone had left for the dead man in it. But he was there, not underground, yet he knew, he was sure, this was his grave.

He shifted his hands and looked at them, now he had the card and tree silver pieces in his palm. He was unsure of how the silver had come to him, but it was important, something to be kept, treasure even, but why?

"Where…?"

He was on a hill with a heavy fog blanket. A town looked far, very far away from the hill, like thousands of miles even when it was supposed to be a few yards. It was like the world didn't make sense of time and distance, logic or reason.

"Not here, not there… not a proper place… an in-between…" He wondered if this was this some sort of purgatory? If it was, why he couldn't remember why he was supposed to have penance from? He must have been a sinner, is this grey horizon was all left for him.

The sound of a coin being tossed into the air echoed around him, Faraday turned around, his back to the town that felt important but he couldn’t remember why, his eyes towards the parting fog and the figure of a man on a horse, watching him.

"Hello?"

The stranger tossed a plain silver piece in the air and caught it in his hand, Faraday looked to his hand and notices it was the same kind of silver piece, he couldn't actually see it – the man was not close – but he knew it was.

_Come here,_ niño _, it's time to go._

Faraday frowned, unsure of what he should do. He looked at the grave again, there were other three but they looked disturbed, someone had been there but now they were gone and Faraday… Faraday was just there, standing while a man on a black horse called for him to come closer.

He should walk towards the town, no matter how far it seemed to be. Faraday looked back towards the man on the black horse, and sighed. Slowly, he made his way up the hill, where the man nodded once, pulling on the reins of his horse and slowly the black beauty started walking, Faraday following close behind on foot.

He looked at the town over his shoulder as he walked, step by step getting farer behind as he followed the rider in black towards the grey horizon.

***

A barn owl was following them. Sam looked at the bird with wary eyes a couple times but said nothing, and Red Harvest only looked at it once. Vasquez on the other hand had not even acknowledge it presence because he was being petty, he knew perfectly well why the owl is around them.

"Goody used to talk about an owl following him around," Sam said out of nowhere, looking at the bird as the slowly rode past the three it was perched. "It was not an actual owl, mind you."

"For him it was real," Vasquez shrugged. "This one is here because of me."

"Is that so?" Sam ushered his horse next to Vasquez's, expecting an explanation. He was going to get one, Vasquez was not keeping secrets from Red or Sam, but he no one told him he couldn't take his time.

He told Sam what he was after all, and this was part of that story as well.

"Some people believe those are witches, you know?" Vasquez huffed upon the memory of his grandmother telling him that.

"Are they?" Red asked, curious.

"Dunno," Vasquez shrugged. "Maybe… not this one though, this one is a messenger."

As in cue, the owl made a sound, flapping it wings and flying directly at Vasquez. He raised his arm and let the bird land on it, wincing slightly when the talons grazed his unclothed forearm. The owl gave screeched and flapped its wings, it settled down and Vasquez lowered his face to stare directly at the bird's eyes.

A series of images and concepts made their way into Vasquez understanding as the owl's eyes glowed faint red. Behind him, Sam and Red stood careful watch, ready to move if necessary but trusting him to know what he was doing.

After a moment that felt too long, Vasquez shook his arm to let the owl fly away, leaving behind the Sin-Eater and his companions. He watched the bird go, saving his thoughts to himself for another moment before he faced Sam and Red.

"There's a town twenty or so miles from here, name's _Lago Quieto_ , there's a man I must see."

Sam gave him a considerate look, frowning as he was thinking hard about his next words, carefully picked and delivered "Are these errands something you do often?"

Vasquez took the reins of his horse and smirked, "How do you think I got a bounty on my head?"

Being the servant of a cursed creature involved dirty work, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Cempasúchil: Mexican marigold.  
> \- Mano de león: Cockscomb.  
> \- Este hombre no tiene un hogar, permite que en mí se forme uno: This man was no home, allow one to be form in me.  
> \- Señora, escucha mis palabras, te pido tomes en cuenta esta ofrenda que hago por este hombre, quien ya no puede pedir perdón: Ma'am, listen to my words, I ask you to please take the offer I make for this man into consideration, since he can no longer ask for forgiveness.  
> \- Mijo: (In this context) dear/sweetheart  
> \- No, no lo es: No, it's not.  
> \- Devoradores de Pecados: Sin-Eaters.  
> \- Niño: boy.


	2. Chapter 2

He had been walking for who knows how long, step by step behind the man in black riding his horse. The silence should bother him, perhaps it did, once, but now there's nothing to be said. He had not seen day nor night and time doesn't feel like something measurable anymore, so when they come to a stop, it makes no difference to him.

Faraday looked up, the rider in black was dismounting his horse. He was taller than Faraday and his clothes vaguely remind him of… someone… but there's nothing to remember. This feeling was a momentary sensation with no connection or explanation, like muscle memory.

"I found a _Purificado_ for you," the rider said, but he wasn't speaking to Faraday. "One of my Sin-Eaters did the cleansing."

A voice hissed in the fog, parting it with fingers made of blades. A woman – or what Faraday thought had been a woman – emerged from the grey fog. Her skeletal figure taller than the rider in black, long hair in patches fell from her head to the ground and all around, she had no eyes in her sockets and her limps were missing skin, her open wounds oozing a dark liquid.

Faraday took a step back, but he was caught by his wrist by the rider in black, who smirked at him before talking, "Niño, listen to her."

He didn't want to, but he had no power to refuse and the woman – creature, monster, _thing_ – spoke in his ears without even coming closer. Her voice was a convoluted plaster of hissed, gasps, moans and pained wails, not a single coherent word was pronounced and yet Faraday understood what she wanted to say.

She was offering him a deal, an opportunity she said, to go back to where he got lost, to continue… to live.

"How?"

She hissed loudly, making him flinch. The rider in black's hold on his wrist remained firm, his eyes glowing red under his hat, watching in between Faraday and the creature.

He should refuse, but he was so scared of the alternative. He was stuck in this place, the in between, his call to the next step probably missing. Was that the reason he didn't remember anything? Was there something more than the echoes of feelings he couldn't understand?

Faraday closed his eyes and nodded.

The rider in black let him go and the creature sunk her blade like fingers in his chest, making the cold spread in his chest as he screamed.

_Don't be afraid_ , she finally said in words he could listen. _You're at the Edge, let yourself fall, and I will catch you._

He inhaled, his eyes snapping open, and saw the sunrise.

***

There was something strange about Lago Quieto. The people were trying to be nonchalant about their everyday lives, and friendly to them as any other person passing by their town, but Vasquez could tell something was not right in their demeanor, as if all of them were sharing some kind of big secret.

It wouldn't be the first time he came across a town like that.

"I don't think is an actual secret," Sam considered as they walked the outskirts of the place to the great lake at the side of town, natural reason for its naming. "Something happened and it has shaken them up quite a bit."

"Perhaps," Vasquez reasoned. "Doesn't explain the hush-hush attitude."

"Somebody was killed," Red said as an explanation, making both Sam and Vasquez look at him in expectation. "I heard the children talking."

And children don't lie about such things, they have probably been given a different story, but they know something has changed and are not old enough to understand why the adults are trying to pretend it didn't happened.

"Well, yes, someone is definitely dead," Vasquez shrugged. "I've been summoned."

The graveyard was outside town, and it was not hard to find the fresh grave waiting for Vasquez. He kneeled at its side and dug his fingers in the soil, waiting.

"Something's wrong," he said after a few heartbeats. "I can't feel anything here."

"No sins to be consumed?" Sam asked, his voice a little too fascinated still by the concept.

"It's not that," he dug his fingers deeper into the soil. "The soul is no longer here."

"Moved on?" Red suggested but he knew it couldn't be that easy.

Vasquez shook his head, getting to his feet to glare at the town across the lake, he had an idea of what was going on already forming in his head. "I've seen this before, a missing restless spirit, this town is cursed."

Sam frowned, "Cursed?"

"The restless spirit must be wandering around, probably causing havoc," he guessed. "I need to know what happened, otherwise I won't be able to get this one to rest."

Red and Sam shared a look, then their attention moved to Vasquez once again. Sam nodded while Red didn't say a word, but his support was correctly implied.

"We better get back to town, then."

***

Mirella Marshell was the name of the deceased person, a widow whose family had been part of the initial constructors of Lago Quieto. It had been several weeks since her passing, but Vasquez had been called to this place only after one of Mirella's cousins had come to visit – and for the looks of the flowers left around her grave, prayed for her spirit in the traditional way Vasquez's was associated with.

"She's from Mexican descent?" Vasquez asked to the baker, who had been overly chatty about it, a man with a simply good heart.

"Oh yes, she was Marshell by marriage, I think her maiden name was Rivera Solís," he said as explanation. "Arthur Marshell die a few years ago and after that it was her, their children and the prosperity of Lago Quieto… to be honest, now that she's gone, I feel this place won't be the same, and that's a bad thing."

"What about the children?" Sam asked.

The baker's expression was sad, "They were taken to a big city by their uncle, education he said, Mirella was heartbroken but understanding, yet," he winced. "There were raids on the caravans coming back to the town when they were supposed to visit, she suspected something happened because she didn't receive any letters from them after that."

The baker dusted his hands on his apron and walked to the door, pointing to the big house at the end of the hill, facing the lake that gave the town its name.

"That's where they lived, a couple of days ago a cousin of Marshell came by to overseen what's going to happen with any lose ends."

Sam and Vasquez looked at each other, Vasquez in particular didn't like the situation, everything just felt strange, and his suspicions were not wrong. He had no idea what exactly the problem was, but upon walking to the boardinghouse all those thoughts came to a stop.

"Tell me I'm hallucinating," he asked of any of his two companions and in a mirror of those words shared between two of their deceased friends in the canyon, this time Sam answered.

"You're hallucinating…and so am I."

Because before them was no other than Joshua Faraday, alive, looking at them with curious, glassy eyes. Vasquez was at his side two strides later and the other man blinked.

"Hi," he greeted, confusion in his voice.

"Faraday," Vasquez breath caught in his throat, the other man tilted his head.

"Oh, do I know you?"

Vasquez face fell, behind him Sam cursed.

***

Faraday was staring at the window of the boardinghouse, his right hand against the glass. He blinked slowly, and pressed his other hand on the window's glass as well, parting his lips to say something but not making any sounds in the end. He looked disgruntled about something, but Vasquez had no clear idea of what, exactly.

"Cariño," Vasquez called softly, moving towards Faraday as if he were an easily spooked animal, but the other man didn't even acknowledge him at first, "Talk to me, please."

Faraday tilted his head, as if considering the request, his gaze remained on the window. "I need to find them."

"Find them?"

Faraday nodded, tapping the glass with his fingers. He looked at Vasquez over his shoulder and. "They are missing… I must find them."

Vasquez hummed, unsure of what to respond. Faraday went back to look at the window without any other explanation, he looked tired but more than anything he looked sad. Vasquez sighed, and gently guided Faraday to sit on a chair by the window, as the other man won't look at anything else.

"Joshua?" he called, the other man blinked. "Josh, I need your help to understand…"

Faraday quickly looked at him, and Vasquez did a double take. It was his eyes what got Vasquez silent, the right one was green as he remembered, but the left one was brown. For a moment, it seemed Faraday was going to remain silent, his hand hovering near Vasquez's face.

"And here I thought he had no one," Faraday said. There was something strange about his tone, which made Vasquez curse softly. "It was you, wasn't it? The Sin-Eater who made this one pure."

It clicked then, the reason he was here.

"Mirella?" Vasquez narrowed his eyes. "This is not your body."

He creature wearing Faraday's face chuckled, "No, it is not… but you already knew that."

Vasquez got to his feet, fury behind his eyes. He clenched his fists, debating between shouting, cursing or doing nothing. He paced the room from one side to another, while Faraday and whatever else was with him stared at the window.

"The others… I included them in my ritual," not as thoughtfully as Faraday, but still. "Are they—"

"There were three, before this one," Mirella said. "They were not right for me."

Vasquez stiffened, "What did you do?"

The spirit shrugged, "I let got, they might be dead now, or not, I don't care," Mirella raised and walked to the window again, "I have things to do."

Faraday turned around and walked past Vasquez, ignoring his calling to stop. It wasn't Faraday listening, not fully anyway. He was still there, but the soul in control was not Joshua, he was too wrapped around Mirella's errant spirit to fight her influence, if he even knew what was going on, because when that thing was not talking, Faraday looked just… lost.

"Chingado," Vasquez cursed, holding his head in his hands and pulling at his own hair. "¡Maldia sea!"

Quickly, he followed the way Faraday took to get outside. He was standing at the side of the house, looking towards the lake, his expression lost once again. Vasquez moved slowly, unsure of what exactly he should do to fix this.

"Joshua, cariño, I need you to come with me," he asked, Faraday looked at him oddly.

"But I need to find them," he argued. "I can't leave with you."

Vasquez ran a hand through his hair, pretending that Faraday's words didn't affect him. "Who is them, güero?"

Faraday rose his eyes at that, something close to recognition crossed his gaze before fading into obscurity. He looked at the lake again, waving in that direction, "The children, my… children? I don't… know, I just… I need to find them!"

"Ey, ey, calma, está bien, todo está bien," he soothed. "I will help you, sí?"

He blinked slowly, it gave Vasquez the impression that he had metaphorical fog around him, Faraday nodded slowly and when Vasquez offered him his and, he took it.

***

Vasquez was watching Faraday, who in turn was staring out the window to the lake with glassy eyes once again. Sam waived a hand before Vasquez to catch his attention, and for the look he had been calling his name for a while.

"Perdón," he said evenly, out of habit. "What?"

"The others," Sam asked, patiently. "Goody, Billy and Jack… is there a chance they are back?"

Vasquez gritted his teeth, he disliked the feeling of uncertainty that was building into his chest by the minute. "The spirit sharing Faraday's body said… it's possible."

Red Harvest was standing near Faraday, looking at the man with a carefully blank expression. For all his control, the Comanche looked tense, he shared a look with Sam, nodding.

"Spirits can gain power in their sorrow, Mirella's spirit did just that," he explained. "Sometimes, those spirits can take over people on the verge of dying, or recently dead, and do whatever they need to finish mourning what holds them here so powerfully."

Red glared at Faraday, "He doesn't remember us, why?"

"I'm not sure, none of the people I've do this for before have return," Vasquez should be glad Faraday was back, but not like this, this wasn't the same guy he saw give his life to save Rose Creek, this was closer to an empty shell than Faraday. "They're not supposed to return."

Sam nodded, considering this for a moment, "I'm going back to Rose Creek to check on the others, if they are back, we should know, if they're not—"

"We should know as well," Vasquez agreed. "Go, I'll take care of this."

Red approached Sam and spoke a few words with him, the older man clapped him in the arm afterwards and nodded in Vasquez's direction. He was about to leave when he stopped near Faraday.

"Faraday," he called and the other man slowly looked at him with a curious expression. "Take care, son."

Faraday didn't seem to understand Sam's words, so he went back to look at the window. Sam sighed softly and announced he will be back as soon as possible, leaving Lago Quieto with haste.

"We should find the people he's looking for," Red suggested as he motioned at Faraday. "Maybe that will clear him from the spirit."

Vasquez stood up, approaching Faraday with a hand on his arm. The Irishman tilted his head to a side, still looking at the lake with a lost expression.

"Güero, you're looking for some children?" He nodded. "Whose children?"

Faraday licked his lips, "Mine, I think?" he blinked. "Do I have children?"

Vasquez shared a look with Red, "No güero, not that I know."

"Oh," Faraday narrowed his eyes. "Hers, then."

He rubbed his left eye with his closed fist for a moment, Vasquez had to take his hand away to make him stop, he didn't protest.

"Do you remember how they look?" Vasquez was trying to get more information out of him, but he had a feeling nothing pleasant was going to come out of this.

Faraday smiled, "My baby girl has black hair, and soft curls like me, her brother took to his father of course, thick dark brown, both have the most beautiful brown eyes you have ever seen."

Vasquez stared at him for a long moment, then his expression crumbled. "Oh güerito…"

"What?"

Vasquez smiled sadly at him, as such a simple description confirmed what he had been suspecting. Faraday didn't remember his own self, but he had the memories of the spirit in him now, mixing and filling the gaps, hence his one-track mind and descriptions of things that clearly had been lived by another.

They managed to coax more information about the kids out of him. He looked almost happy to talk about them, yet Vasquez knew this was a reflection of Mirella's memories, not Faraday's sentiment, he was simply reacting to what the spirit who brought him back once had feel.

Was there anything left of him? Vasquez was starting to wonder if this was beyond a spirit using Faraday to move and more about taking over, and he hoped that was not the case.

He really hoped it wasn't.

Red pulled Vasquez aside when Faraday when back to stare at the window. His demeanor was giving them a fairly accurate idea of the situation, and it wasn't good.

"I don't think those kids are around anymore," Vasquez whispered, Red nodded in agreement. "The lake, you think…?"

"I'll investigate, stay with him."

Red left the room without another word, and Vasquez was yet to turn and face Faraday again. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, mentally repeating to himself that he could do this, that once this situation is over, Faraday would be fine.

"You're mad at me," Faraday said suddenly, almost making Vasquez jump. "Why?"

He was quick to turn around, shaking his head, "I'm not mad, güero."

Faraday stared at him with his bicolored eyes – a reminder of how he was not the same he saw fall in Rose Creek, that he had returned changed – tilting his head in al almost childlike way.

"I should know you, shouldn't I?" he licked his lips, unsure. "I should know all of you, but I can only remember my—her children… my children? No, that's not right, I don't—" he pulled hard at his own hair, frustrated.

"Eh, no hagas eso," Vasquez gently chastised gently. "You will remember eventually."

"Why did I forget?" he asked. "The last thing I remember was waking up on the hill under the wooden cross, there was a name on it and I think it's mine."

"Joshua Faraday, yes."

"The cross said Josh."

Vasquez shrugged, "You favored the short version…"

Yet he let Vasquez call him Joshua... he kept that thought to himself.

Faraday frowned and after a moment he decided he liked that answered and nodded to continue. "Everything was grey and there was this man riding a black horse—"

"Dressed in black?" his ire was spiking but he kept his tone calm, "Wide brim hat, red eyes?"

"Yeah, like that," Faraday pointed out. "He took me to… myself? No, that's not right, to her, the lady, hum… Mirella!" he tapped his chest. "She brought me here, to find the children."

"You didn't remember anything before that," Vasquez looked horrified. "Rose Creek? Or Before that? Nothing?"

Faraday shook his head no along a full body shrug. Vasquez suspected that the reason Mirella's memories and echoes of her feelings were overcoming Faraday's was because he had a void in his own memory, it seemed to be the case. Mirella was stronger because she remembered perfectly well what and who she was.

Perhaps his ritual had been too strong, leaving Faraday for a moment like a white canvas for Mirella's errant spirit to use. Faraday's spirit had been raw when he encountered the errant spirit that ultimately took him from his dead threshold and into the land of the living once again.

However, she couldn't have known he was appropriate for her to make deal. Lago Quieto was not close to Rose Creek. Faraday was supposed to walk into the afterlife, not stay in between for an errant spirit to find him.

But it had been _Vasquez_ who performed the ritual, it was him who devoured his sins and set him clean into the path to the afterlife, and the only one besides Vasquez who could have known about Faraday's state in the in between that was the damned charro, and he had taken advantage.

"¡Pinche demonio de la chingada! ¿quién jodidos se cree?" He cursed while passing the room, a long and heated string of curse continue as he named every insult he could think and Faraday just stared almost in awe at the rant.

Vasquez was pacing from one side to another, submerged in the rage he felt towards the demon he worked for and his own cursed luck that got Faraday stuck in this situation even after Vasquez's intention was to help him get peace.

An unexpected, almost shy touch to his face quickly got him back to the moment, like a bucket of cold water poured directly to his face. Faraday's ran his knuckles against Vasquez's cheek, his expression openly curious and amused.

"Hey, I'm fine," he assured, Vasquez almost believed him. "This bothers you, doesn't it? I mean, it's obvious, the cursing to hell and back gives it away, but… why does it bother you?"

"Because you deserve better than _this_ ," Vasquez insisted. "I thought… I thought I could give you at least that."

Faraday sighed, shaking his head, "Whatever you did was good enough for me. I don't need to remember to know that."

"That makes no sense, güero," Vasquez countered. "You don't know what you're talking about."

He shrugged again, "You care, that I can see, so whatever you did, it was because you care."

"You are sharing your body, memories and feelings with an angry errant spirit because of me, which was not what I had in mind, at all!"

"Hey now, I was the one who took her deal, and it was the rider who guide me to her, you were not even there, not your fault _musha-sho_."

Faraday frowned at his own words, he sounded more like himself but at the same time, but for the expression on his face it had been not a conscious effort.

"Güero?"

Faraday licked his lips, blinking his bicolored eyes with amusement, "Mirella says my pronunciation is atrocious."

Vasquez stared at him for a moment, and laughed.

Well, she was not wrong.

***

Vasquez resisted the urge to take Faraday by the hand out of overprotection when they walked around Mirella's old house. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and his features were more alert, sharper, which let Vasquez know that it was Mirella in control.

"Where you murdered?" he asked abruptly, barely disguising his anger at her.

Faraday looked over his shoulder, but it was Mirella glaring at him, "They think I took my own life."

"But you didn't," she shook her head no. "What happened?"

"Cousin of my husband," she rolled Faraday's eyes. "I don't care, I only want to be with my children, this life is beyond me now."

"You are using a living person," Vasquez pointed out behind gritted teeth, "Seeking revenge!"

She turned around, Faraday's bicolor eyes glaring at him with fire. "I don't care about revenge as much as I want my children back, I will gain nothing with revenge," she smiled and it looked so wrong in Faraday's features, mocking. "And he wouldn't be alive if not for my deal with El Charro, so you own me, remember that."

"What are you implying?"

Mirella clicked Faraday's tongue, "I have seen the way you look at him."

Vasquez slowly and carefully changed his expression for something almost blank. He was furious, but directing that anger towards Mirella was going to do more harm than good, so he took a deep breath and look at her in Faraday's eyes.

"Then you know why I'm concerned."

Mirella rolled Faraday's eyes along a heavy, dramatic sigh, combining the tangled straws of hair with his fingers. She commanded the body that was not hers with such ease it made Vasquez fill ill, but so far, she had been considerate of her host.

"I don't want to hurt him," she said, tapping Faraday's chest. "I only want to find my children… otherwise."

A haunted look took over Faraday's face and he gasped, losing some of the twinkle in his eyes. Vasquez took his arm to help him support his weight, Faraday clutched Vasquez's vest with one hand and pressed his body against him almost shaking.

"Güero, what's wrong?" he moved his arm around Faraday's waist to hold him while the other man worked on control his gaps.

"Oh man, this is bad," he said between gasps. "I need to find the children, please…" he opened his eyes and looked at him, his face so close he could feel his breathing, "Help me?"

Vasquez's voice caught on his throat, and he nodded, because whatever Faraday saw to upset him like this couldn't be good.

***

Red Harvest didn't have good news for Vasquez, well… he got the information they needed, but it was not good. Both of them wished they were wrong about their suspicions, but it was pretty clear for Mirella's return and Faraday's haunted looks to the lake, that Mirella's children were not alive anymore.

"The caravan arrived after the raid, the children were there," Red explained, to Vasquez only for they had no idea how Mirella would react. "The storm covered the tracks and evidence, someone hurt those children."

Vasquez ran a hand through his hair, the entire situation was terrible and it was getting worse, it he had a salary from that damn Mexican demon, we would be earning it pretty well now.

"They are dead."

A loud crash startled them, Faraday had punched the window, breaking the glass. His eyes were almost glowing and his whole body was shaking with rage.

"I knew it," he hissed, and Vasquez couldn't tell if it was him or Mirella talking. "My children, oh my children!"

Faraday opened his mouth and an inhuman shriek that broke every windows and glass around them. After that, Vasquez saw a tall figure over Faraday, it had long hair that reached the floor, abnormally long limbs, and blades for fingers and dripping something black, it was Mirella's cursed form.

"¡No, no chingada madre!"

The sun set on the horizon as Mirella controlled Faraday, getting outside the boarding house over the window, marching towards the lake.

"What happened?" Red asked, moving to follow Faraday already.

"Es una Llorona," he answered way too quickly to notice he said it in Spanish, "A crying woman, it's a cursed spirit of a woman who lost her children, old legend, she's becoming one, and… damn it, this is bad."

He jumped over the windows and followed the trail of destruction towards the lake. The darkness around was covering everything like a veil when they found Faraday walking towards the house near the lake, Mirella's old house.

"Güero, no!"

The gates bend in his hands as they were nothing as he made his way inside, were the people working the house scrambled before the sight of something clearly not human invading the place.

"What is this scandal?!" a man walked the front door only to freeze in fear in the sight of a man being shadowed by something out of the world of the living, with clear violent intentions.

"Mis hijos…" Faraday's voice echoed Mirella's, "¡Mis hijos!"

The man pulled out a gun with no hesitation, if only trembling hands. Vasquez boiled with fury and if not for Red's stopping him he would have killed the man right there. There was no need, not when he shot Faraday and missed, who merely ducked his head and kept walking until he cornered the man against the front of the house.

"Are you crazy?"

"You killed them," his voice remained a double echo of Mirella's, the ghostly figure towering over them with clear fury.

"I have to stop him before he gets hurt," Vasquez tried to shake Red off but the name wouldn't budge.

"No, she has to end it."

Vasquez looked at his friend, frantic, but slowly understood that otherwise Mirella would never stop chasing the killer of her children, never mind he was the one that murder her as well.

The night was covering them and Vasquez stood there, watching as Mirella spat curses and blames to the frightened man, using Faraday to chock him against the house that was once hers, once a safe place to live until greed took that away from them.

"Greed…" Vasquez almost laughed, remembering the tales of how people ended taken by The Charro's power away from this world when they took the bag of cursed coins.

Greed had always been the downfall.

Faraday closed his eyes, adobe him Mirella opened her mouth, and another inhuman shriek boomed around them. The windows broke, Vasquez and Red covered their ears, the sound was so piercing it was painful and it drowned the man's dying scream and the gunshot that ended it all.

Silence fell, Mirella's form vanished and Faraday fell to the ground.

"Damn it," Vasquez ran to prop him up, he looked dizzy but otherwise injured. He was holding one of his guns loosely in his right hand, Red reached them and gently took it out of his reach so it wouldn't go off again.

"We have to leave this place," Red said, Vasquez agreed with no other argument and between them prompted Faraday up to go around the house towards the lake.

Faraday fought their hold as much as he could, "Wait, no, I have, my—her—the children!"

"Güero, we have to leave, this is not safe—"

"Alejandro!" Vasquez closed his mouth with an audible click. "Please, I—we need to do this."

Red looked ready to protest but kept the words to himself, knowing that Vasquez was going to agree the moment he fell silent upon hearing his given name from Faraday's lips.

The lake was too dark, they had only the faint light reflections from the town but it was enough, Faraday seemed to know exactly where he was going, and as they approached the farther edge of the lake, he stopped.

He took Vasquez hand and smiled, confident like the day before the battle of Rose Creek, once he let go it didn't felt like a goodbye, it was the only thing holding Vasquez back from stopping him as he dived into the lake and didn't came back after a few minutes.

Vasquez was not ready to mourn again, but he didn't have to. After a moment that felt too long, Faraday resurface with a gasp, breaking the lake's surface, this time Vasquez did ran to him, helping him stand up as he dragged two medium sized bundles tied with ropes to the edge.

"Dios mío…"

"Yeah…"

Faraday accepted Red's help to move take the wrapped bodies from the water, he looked ready to pass out.

"Hey," Vasquez called, cupping his face with one hand, "Está bien, you did it."

Faraday placed his own hand against Vasquez, his bicolor eyes lightly twinkling in the dark, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did, back in Rose Creek, after I was gone."

Vasquez looked dazed, "You... you knew?"

He shrugged, their moment was interrupted when he gasped and it was Mirella in control again, she scrambled towards the bodies of her children, tears falling from her eyes.

"Mis hijos, oh mis bebés, mis hijos… Díos míos, por favor, Díos mío, llévalos a tu gracia…" She started singing softly, broken and almost incoherently as she sobbed, "Toronjil de plata, torre de marfil… este niño lindo, ya se va a dormir…"

Vasquez kneeled beside her, trying to concentrate in helping her and not in how odd but at the same time appropriate her Spanish words sounded in Faraday's voice.

"They will be fine," he assured her, knowing the grace of the afterlife had for children, "You have found them."

From the dark around them, hooves could be heard, Vasquez knew who it was, so he tried his best to not glare at his damn employer when he stopped before them.

"It's time mija, they are waiting for you," El Charro said, then pointed at Vasquez. "Do the needful for them."

"Sí," he answered with barely concealed anger, El Charro merely chuckled, shaking his head.

He offered a hand to Faraday and for a moment Vasquez thought he was going to take him away, but it was Mirella's ghostly form who emerged from Faraday's body, no longer cursed. Faraday passed out the moment she walked into the night with the strange reaper with only a nod to them as thank you.

***

Vasquez buried the children with their mother, marked the graves and prayed for their eternal rest. He did a ritual similar to the one he have done for Faraday, less intense, much less personal, and was not surprised when he tasted apples and oranges in the very few sins of these children, overcome by the taste of Mirella's coffee and bourbon.

He preferred Faraday's taste of whiskey.

Vasquez paranoia of Marshell's cousin dead was unnecessary, the town barely cared, it was another story for the perpetual silence they had experience the first day in Lago Quieto. The people knew without being told that something awful had happened and they knew as well how such terrible act had been paid with blood as penance. This was what Vasquez disliked of these typo of towns the most, the hush-hush attitude that would leave crimes pass, buried in silence and forgotten, but at least this time it had been useful for him, as he didn't have to worry about being ran out of town just yet.

Faraday was still unconscious when he came back to the boarding house, Red watching him and everything around them like a hawk.

"Any changes?" Vasquez asked, he was reluctant to leave them early that morning, but he had a duty to fulfill.

Red shook his head no, handing him a bottle of some kind of moonshine that could be used to strip pain from wood, but he took it anyway to get rid of the taste of dirt, coffee and bourbon.

"There's water over there," Red nodded to a corner where a table with a water and clean cloths sat for him to use. Vasquez didn't ask where they had come from, he didn't care, as long as it was enough to wash his hands and his face, it was more than welcome.

"We have to leave," Vasquez said, not for the first time, "Any news from Sam?"

"None," Red replied. "We could head back to Rose Creek."

It was somehow safe, that town, and the people there would at least be civil, life debt and all that.

"Sure."

Red decided to get the horses ready while Vasquez watched over Faraday. He wanted to other man to wake up already, just to know if he was really there.

"You're thinking too loud," the sound was soft, voice still heavy with sleep. Faraday didn't move when Vasquez sat at his side on the bed, but he tried to smile, "That's rude, you won't let me sleep."

"You had enough sleep already, güero."

He shrugged, "I don't know, being possessed by a vengeful spirit is pretty exhausting."

Vasquez almost laughed at that, nodding in agreement even he himself had not experience that firsthand. "It's that how you feel, tired? Because anything else I should know, to make sure Mirella's influence is completely gone."

"I'm not hurting, if that's your convoluted way of asking if I'm fine," Faraday pointed out with a grin, then frowned. "For someone that was dead a couple weeks ago, I feel pretty good."

"Güero, I'm sorry, I never meant to—"

"Indirectly bringing me back to life? And here I was ready to thank you, jezz."

"No, I didn't meant that, ha que la chingada contigo—" he added with a spark of annoyance, but held back when Faraday was smirking at him with a wicked twinkled in his eyes.

His green eyes, both of them.

"Hey Ale," he greeted softly, almost shyly.

Alejandro smiled, shaking his head in amusement, "You gave me such a scare Joshua, pinche cabrón …"

"Hey now, I don't need Mirella's Spanish to understand that, I'm pretty sure I don't deserve to be insulted," he pointed out, but he was smiling nonetheless. "I… there's a few things not complete back yet, but… but I remember you."

"I don't know about the rest, but for to me that's a great start," Alejandro leaned over and placed a kiss on Faraday's hairline, making the other man chuckled, sneaking his hand out of the covers to take Alejandro's on his own.

"Yeah, it is."

***

They rode back to Rose Creek, Teddy encounter them at half of the way, being sent by Sam to get them back, as there had been an occurrence that required him to stay.

"The others—"

"Risen?" Vasquez asked directly and Faraday peeked behind him, riding with him. The Irishman was not feeling completely well just yet and he had protested a lot, but Vasquez managed to convince him to it was for the best.

Teddy stared at Faraday with an ashen look, the horse he was riding was Wild Jack and he almost threw Teddy of his back when he notice his former rider.

"Hey there you crazy stallion," Faraday greeted, the horse made what Vasquez considered a happy sounds and after Faraday petted his flank, he stopped trying to get Teddy off him.

Teddy swallowed the lump on his throat, "Y-Yes, the others… a few days ago, they didn't remember what happened, but it was coming back to them."

"You put too much juice in you Mexican magical mumbo-jumbo," Faraday snickered, squirming away when Vasquez slowly moved to elbowed him, not applying any force to the gesture more than to make a point.

Red looked far too pleased for Vasquez liking, giving them both amused looks as they rode back to Rose Creek, every once in a while answering Teddy's questions. There was the story of everything that happened in Lago Quieto, but he wasn't ready to retell that just yet.

Faraday rested against him, pressing his forehead against Vasquez neck.

"Something wrong, cariño?"

"No, just sortin' out memories." Mirella left a print on him, one that might never go away. "Hey Ale… I know what that word means now."

"Oh, you do?" Vasquez looked over his shoulder, grinning, "Gonna do something about it?"

"Hmmm," he licked his lips. "Maybe later… sweetheart."

***

"I don't know why it doesn't shock me that you can raise the dead," Goodnight said casually, looking at his glass more than at Vasquez.

"I cannot raise the dead," Vasquez insisted. "I just gave you a pass to a nicer afterlife and my goddamned demon of a boss took you like samples to an angry ghost to allow her closure otherwise she would haunt his territory as well, she's the one that happened to rise you all, and it stick."

"I do remember a woman's voice," Jack said. "She was sad."

Billy drained his glass, "I don't remember anything before Goody woke me up."

"She liked me better than all of you," Faraday said with his usual humorous tone, but the experience had not been pleasant, Vasquez knew that. He respected Faraday's choice to not tell the others as much.

Vasquez eyed Faraday's drink, a double whiskey and chuckled to himself.

"What's funny now?" Joshua asked, Alejandro shook his head with a laugh, taking the glass from him and drinking it on one go. "Hey!"

Alejandro gritted his teeth, tasting the burn down his throat, "You should switch to tequila, güero."

"Oh, should I?"

"It would be a clean start, tastes better, I will get you one, you will see."

Joshua smiled at him, nodding without much fuzz, going back to the conversation with the others, the seven of them together again. Alejandro was content, for the first time his cursed gift gave him something good, and that was exactly what he wanted after deadly apparitions, sins whiskey and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations.  
> Purificado: purified.  
> Niño: boy.  
> Cariño: dear/sweetheart.  
> Chingado: fuck/damn  
> Maldia sea: damn it.  
> Ey, ey, calma, está bien, todo está bien: Hey, calm down, it's fine, everything it's fine.  
> Si: yes.  
> Perdón: Sorry.  
> Eh, no hagas eso: Hey, don't do that.  
> ¡Pinche demonio de la chingada! ¿quién jodidos se cree?: Damn fucking demon! Who the fuck does he think he is?  
> ¡No, no chingada madre!: No, no goddamn it!  
> Es una Llorona: She's a Wailing Woman (La Llorona it's a Mexican legend, like a Banshee)  
> Mis hijos: my children.  
> Mis hijos, oh mis bebés, mis hijos… Díos míos, por favor, Díos mío, llévalos a tu gracia: my children, oh my babies, my children, my God, please, my God, take them to your grace.  
> Toronjil de plata, torre de marfil… este niño lindo, ya se va a dormir: silver melissa, ivory towers, this sweet child is going to sleep.  
> Mija: (in this context) my girl.
> 
> I took some time to mix more Mexican Folklore here as it seemed a nice opportunity to do so. I hope you guys liked it, let me know what you think!


End file.
